


sense of home

by selflessbellamy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, Reunions, soldier!bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 05:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16804309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selflessbellamy/pseuds/selflessbellamy
Summary: His kids don’t know that he’s coming home in time for Christmas.Feeling restless, Bellamy bounces his leg, which must be annoying the living hell out of the older woman sitting next to him. To avoid making awkward eye contact with her, he turns his head towards the small airplane window to gaze at the stars: During the nine months he was stationed in Syria, these suns shining from light-years away were the only thing connecting him to his family back home.(inspired by those soldier homecoming vids that make everyone cry their eyes out)





	sense of home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bellofthetolppl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellofthetolppl/gifts).



> dedicated to: iva (@jasperjoordan on Tumblr) thanks for being so lovely! ❤️

_His kids don’t know that he’s coming home in time for Christmas._ Feeling restless, Bellamy bounces his leg, which must be annoying the living hell out of the older woman sitting next to him. To avoid making awkward eye contact with her, he turns his head towards the small airplane window to gaze at the stars: During the nine months he was stationed in Syria, these suns shining from light-years away were the only thing connecting him to his family back home. 

His heart flutters in his chest, and every time he remembers that he’ll be reunited with them in the next three hours — as surreal as it still feels — tears threaten to well up in his eyes. Three hours might seem like a long time, but it’s nothing compared to _nine_ frickin’ months.

While he’s immersed in his own thoughts, the woman suddenly leans over, “I don’t know if this is appropriate right now, but I just want to say thank you for your service.” 

Bellamy smiles. “I’m just excited to see my family, Ma’am.”

Most likely because of his fairly young age, she asks about his parents, but they’re not alive anymore. Instead of giving that explanation, he pulls his favorite photograph from his inner pocket to show it to her, because for some unknown reason he _really_ needs to talk about the people he loves right now — even if she’s a stranger.

This picture was taken in the local park one month before he had to leave for army training camp, so it’s the most recent one he has of them all together. As soon as she lays eyes on it, the woman beams, her dark gaze filling with light. “You’ve got two kids already? Aw, they’re beautiful.” 

At her comment, Bellamy grins with pure pride. “My daughter, Addie. She just turned five,” he says, pointing to the girl on his shoulders. Then he points to Clarke who’s holding their son in between them. “My amazing wife and our son, Marlon.” 

When she smiles again, the stranger looks a little sad, which is understandable. “They both look a lot like you. But your son, he has your wife’s eyes. How old is he?” 

“Three.” 

Part of why Bellamy’s heart aches with stinging guilt every time he thinks about his children is how young they are. _No one_ should leave their child for nine months when they’ve barely finished potty training and still says ‘Dada’ instead of ‘Daddy’.

In comfort, the woman places her hand on Bellamy’s forearm for a moment. “I’m sorry you had to leave them.” 

Signing up for the army was undoubtedly the biggest mistake he’s made in his life, but he didn’t know it would be when he was eighteen and hadn’t met Clarke yet. For six years he went about his happy life with her, they welcomed two beautiful kids into this world. And then last year he gets a call from his old commander-in-chief who tells him that he’s being deployed to Syria. 

At twenty-six, married with two wonderful kids Bellamy honestly felt as if his life had fallen completely into place, but then something like this happened as a result of a foolish decision he made as a teenager. 

Without warning, the tears stream from his eyes. “You shouldn’t be thanking me for my service, Ma’am. I’m _not_ a soldier. I’m a historian; I’m a father and a husband. A warzone is no place for me.” 

Drying his cheeks, Bellamy takes a ragged breath to gather himself, and the women touches his forearm again. “I hardly think it’s a place for anyone, dear. Now, you go home to that wonderful wife of yours, to your sweet kids and tell them you love ‘em, alright?”

He smiles. “Will do.” 

_Oh, he surely does._

As soon as the cab driver has pulled up to the curb by his house, he tumbles out of the car and almost forgets his luggage in the back when he sees Clarke shut the front door. Tossing his bags on the grassy lawn, Bellamy sets into a run, so does she and they meet each other in the middle of the driveway. 

Overwhelmed, he lifts her off the ground to hold her in a tight, safe embrace. 

“Bellamy, oh I…” she sobs into the crook of his neck, causing him to wrap his fingers within the golden waves of her hair in comfort. When the scent of lemongrass and roses from her soft skin meets his nostrils, he closes his eyes, breathing her in. 

“Clarke…” With her name on his lips, Bellamy captures hers in a searing kiss; one that makes the entire world spin faster. To his slight surprise, she moans into it, cupping his face. Once they have to draw back for air, he puts her down again and brushes a stray piece of hair out of her face. “You look so beautiful.” 

“I’m in my pajamas. It’s 5 in the morning.”

Smiling, he touches the tip of her nose with his fingertip. “Don’t be like that, Princess. You look amazing.”

Though she rolls her eyes affectionately, Clarke doesn’t try to argue with him any further. “Are you ready to see the kids?”

His heart swells at the thought. “More than anything.” Right when she’s about to turn around, however, he grabs her elbow and adds, his voice gentle, “But I have to ask you something first, and you _have_ to tell me… What was it like raising them alone?”

Given how her jaw slackens at the question, it’s pretty obvious that she didn’t expect him to ask _that._ “Bellamy, I don’t think—“ 

“I _need_ to know.”

To highlight how resolute he is, he keeps his eyes trained on hers until she — after several heavy moments of hesitation — releases a breath and says, “Marlie, I think he for the most part was too young to understand, so despite him saying daily how much he missed you and wanted you to come home, nothing really changed with him… Our daughter, however, _oh boy_ that’s a different tale.”

When she chokes up, a merciless knife stabs at Bellamy’s heart. With tears in her eyes, Clarke goes on, struggling to keep her voice steady, “The worst part was the times where she’d start crying all of a sudden and I couldn’t comfort her, because she wouldn’t let me. She’d keep… keep sobbing ‘ _I want my dad, I want daddy’_ over and over, I just—“

After releasing a heart-wrenching whimper, Bellamy pulls her into his chest, cradles the back of her head and places a lingering kiss to her temple. 

Then she admits, “I felt so _powerless,_ because I couldn’t for the life of me soothe my own daughter. It broke my heart.” 

He presses his lips to the crown of her hair. “You’re the best mom I know.” 

And that statement doesn’t even _begin_ to cover how amazing she is. When they met seven years ago, they connected instantly despite the oddness of the situation: He’d ended up in the emergency room with a broken arm, she’d done his cast and written her phone number on it. At first she only did it to get a rise out of her boss, Doctor Singh, but the flirtation quickly became something more.

“I’m gonna make love to you for hours. Take that as a promise,” Bellamy whispers into her ear, which makes her chuckle in spite of how tearful she still is. “But first I have two kids to surprise.” 

Every year for Christmas since Addie was born, he has baked his _special_ cookies with M&M’s and Hershey’s candy cane chocolates. Ideally, his kids would wake up smelling them, but because they’ve both inherited Clarke’s heavy sleeping habit, it’s not actually realistic. However, Bellamy and Clarke do their best not to make much noise as they rummage around the kitchen, baking. 

After thirty minutes, the first batch of cookies is put into the oven and Bellamy leans back against the counter with a content sigh. Then he mumbles to his wife about how excited he is to see the kids’ surprised faces when they realize that it’s _him_ — their dad — waking them up for the first time in nine months. 

Still, he doesn’t get to do that with Addie… 

Within a couple minutes in the oven, the sweet scent of the cookies has filled the entire house, and they soon hear the quiet shuffling of small feet on the staircase. Bellamy’s breath catches around a sob in his throat when he hears his daughter call out, confused. 

“Mommy, are you baking daddy’s cooki— _Daddy!_ ” The girl exclaims just as she rounds the corner and catches the sight of him. Then, as soon as it dawns on her that she isn’t dreaming, Addie bursts into tears, sobbing uncontrollably, and though he knows that she’s just happy, Bellamy’s heart quivers in his chest as he kneels to scoop her up in his arms.

“Sssh, baby. Oh, it’s okay,” once again, the tears rip loose from his eyes. He cradles the back of his daughter’s head, placing kisses into her hair in comfort. “I’m right here. Sssh.”

As Addie buries her face in his neck, he can feel how wet her cheeks are, and it’s upsetting him more than he thought it would. “Please look at me, Bug.” 

She does as he says, and he brushes the tears off her cheeks. “I love you so much.”

When he’s said that, his voice quavering under the heavy weight of emotion, his daughter places both her small hands on his cheeks, holding his gaze while she says, “I _know,_ daddy. I love you too. Put me down, please? I want to wake up Marlie. We had a sleepover in my room.”

 _Damn, these kids are cute._

Grinning, Bellamy puts Addie down on the floor. “Well, off you go then.”

When she has gone, he sees the opportunity to steal a lingering kiss from Clarke and lean against her for a bit of emotional support. During the last seven years, she has been his steady anchor, his confidant and best friend. _He truly won the lottery the day that he met her._

Five minutes later Addie returns holding her little brother’s hand. “Look, Marlie! I told you daddy was here.”

Bellamy kneels again, spreading his arms open wide his son walks to him as fast as he can on his toddler legs. Unlike his sister, Marlie doesn’t cry, but he cuddles against his dad’s neck, obviously tired and confused. “Hey, bud. Were you asleep?” 

Marlie nods before sitting down on his dad’s leg and leaning his head against his shoulder, struggling to keep his eyes open. His heart fluttering, Bellamy combs his fingers through his son’s hair, which is still damp from sleeping. Then Addie joins them from the other side, wrapping her small arms around her dad’s broad shoulders as best as possible, and Bellamy presses a kiss to both their heads.

“Guess what, Addie?” Clarke starts next to them, earning the girl’s attention right away. “You can skip school tomorrow if you want.”

As is to be expected, the five year old lights up. “Really? I can spend the day with daddy?” 

“Yes, Bug. Does that sound good?” Bellamy replies, to which his daughter only responds with a noisy, sweet kiss to his cheek. He laughs warmly, pulling her closer as Marlie nuzzles his shoulder. Still, Clarke emphasizes that the kids _do_ have to go back to sleep for at least a couple hours so that they can enjoy the day together without any ‘I’m too tired to function’ tantrums. 

Though it pinches a bit at his heart to have to put them to sleep again, Bellamy knows that it’s for the best. With the promise that they can eat the cookies when they’ve woken up, he carries Marlie and Addie upstairs to her room where they were sleeping before they went to greet him: There’s a toddler mattress on the floor next to Addie’s twin bed, on which he places his son who’s pretty much asleep already. 

Nevertheless, Bellamy tugs him in and places a chaste kiss to his forehead. When he goes to do the same with Addie, she tries to protest, “But I’m not _tired_.” 

_Okay, it’s already time for the serious father tone._ “You will be if you don’t sleep. Come on now, get in bed.”

His daughter loves everything science and space (just like her auntie Raven), so there are astronauts and planets on her bed covers, pictures of the solar system and constellations on the walls. Once he’s kissed Addie’s forehead and tugged her in, she grabs his hand so fast that it reveals her panic. “Don’t leave.”

 _Fuck, that hurts._

“I’m not leaving, baby. I’m just gonna go to sleep and I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

Her lower lip wobbling, Addie replies, “Promise?” 

He keeps his eyes soft as they hold hers, caresses her hand with his thumb. “I _promise_ … And Addie, what do big girls do?” 

Having heard that at least a hundred times before, she sighs dramatically, “They stay in their own bed.” 

“That’s right. Goodnight, Honey,” after saying this, Bellamy boops her on the nose to make her giggle. 

When she has closed her eyes, he gives her one last kiss on the forehead before joining Clarke, who’s leaning against the doorframe. To his surprise, she’s changed out of her pajamas and is now wearing nothing except underwear and _his_ flannel shirt over her shoulders.

His heart skips a beat at the sight, the corners of his mouth curving upwards into a smile while he — as silently as possible — walks out of the room with Clarke. “Has bedtime been a problem when I was away?” is the first thing he asks, resisting the strong urge to take her into his arms and undress her right there. 

Biting her lower lip, Clarke hesitates and adjusts the flannel to keep it from falling off her shoulder. “Addie had a lot of nightmares the first few months. It’s difficult to convince your kid that there’s nothing to be afraid of when you know that’s not true, because you’re terrified yourself.” 

Yeah, he was scared, too, praying every day that he’d be lucky enough to return to his family alive. Apparently it worked for him, but it didn’t for so many others. Leaning in, Bellamy places a comforting kiss to her temple and takes her hand to lead her downstairs.

It’s been nine months since he’s set a foot in their bedroom, and somehow it’s mildly surprising to him that everything still looks pretty much the same, though she has decorated the space a little for Christmas by hanging cozy fairy lights and placed a wreath above the lit fireplace.

“You remember the promise you made me earlier?” she asks, running her fingertips along the edge of his uniform collar. By instinct, Bellamy presses a hand to her back to pull her closer, and when she gazes up at him, her ocean eyes carrying a familiar kind of electric shine, he finds himself growing nervous for some reason.

_Oh wait. They haven’t had sex in nine months. That’s why._

Maybe he’s off his game? Even though it’s irrational, Bellamy thinks that he might not be able to satisfy her, and that would really fucking suck. “I do, but I think we should… ease into it, kinda, because you know—“ 

To stop his rambling, Clarke kisses him, all reassurance. “Bellamy, I like when we ease it into it. You know that.” 

They’ve had their fun in bed over the years, for sure, but she’s right: Since having young kids in the house, they’ve learned to really enjoy and appreciate slow sex. Tonight, he chooses to take it a step further, patiently undressing her despite the fact that she’s wearing little clothes compared to him, and it’s obvious that she is amazed by the attention that he’s paying to her: Kissing every inch of ivory skin as he exposes it, reacquainting himself with her delicate curves — and once they’re both naked, his military uniform a discarded piece of fabric on the floor — they embrace each other, make the moment matter.

 _Every second is precious to them._

She whispers in his ear that she used to rummage through the closet in a desperate search for clothes, on which the scent of him still lingered. Every day, she’d go to bed wearing his clothes to make it easier to fall asleep.

“The nights were lonely without you; colder,” Clarke whispers while he’s drawing invisible patterns on her breast with his fingertips. After noticing the first few tears in her eyes, Bellamy slips into her, interlaces their fingers all the while hoping that the closeness will comfort her. 

As her breath hitches around a quiet moan, she grasps at his broad shoulders like an anchor. Once she feels steadied, she lets her fingers brush through the soft curls of his hair. “Welcome home, babe,” is what she breathes against his lips then, causing a wave of warmth to surge through his chest. He kisses her languidly, swallowing every sound she makes at the deep thrusts of his hips.

Afterwards, they cuddle in the dim light from the fireplace unable to stop touching each other: His hands are memorizing the smooth, ivory skin of her body. While he was deployed, in the midst of all the chaos it was sometimes difficult for him to remember how _alive_ she makes him feel. 

“What’s on your mind?” she asks, nuzzling his cheek a little.

Sighing, Bellamy replies, “The day we found out you were pregnant with Addie, I told you I’d never leave you. But I broke that promise.”

As soon as those words have left his mouth, Clarke flips them over so that he’s on his back beneath her and their faces are no more than an inch apart. Like this, the beautiful shades of blue within her eyes seem to deepen in color.

She presses a soft kiss to his throat. “Listen… I know how much you hated being away from us, but you had no choice, Bellamy. Please believe me when I tell you that I couldn’t have asked for a more loyal, amazing husband. _You came back to us_ , and that’s what matters.” 

Smiling through the tears that have welled up in his eyes, Bellamy lets his hand travel up her bare back, his fingertips dancing a sweet trail along her spine. “I’m finally home.”

* * *

Being a parent means you have to calculate how much time you have to hide all evidence of sexual activity before your kids come bursting into the bedroom first thing in the morning. In Bellamy and Clarke’s case, they have no more than ten minutes. Banishing his uniform to the armchair at the corner of the room, he puts on a t-shirt once he’s pulled his boxers up, and she wraps herself in the silk robe he gave her for their sixth anniversary.

“We’re pros at this point,” she remarks with a mischievous grin when he’s hidden the condom wrapper in his nightstand drawer. 

Then he strides to her to give her a quick kiss before they have to jump back into bed. A minute later, Addie and Marlie crack the door to the bedroom open, see that their parents are awake and run in to settle between them against the headboard.

“I brought a book,” Addie says, placing it in Bellamy’s lap. 

“They’ve really missed your stories,” Clarke murmurs, running her fingers through Marlon’s dark, curly hair. “I’m not nearly as good at telling them as you are.”

The book that his kids have chosen is _‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’,_ which is one that he usually reads at least fifty times during December, but Addie and Marlie never tire of it. While he’s telling the story, his daughter’s head falls naturally onto his shoulder, which makes his heart flutter in his chest. 

_God, he missed the familiarity._

Still, there’s one thing that distracts him: Addie keeps sniffling. 

“Honey, are you okay? Is your nose a little stuffy?” Acting on fatherly instinct, Bellamy presses a palm to her forehead, but she isn’t burning up. Then he meets her eyes, and though they are glassy it’s clearly _not_ from fever.

Addie responds by pressing her face into the crook of his neck, and he can actually feel the few tears that cling to her eyelashes. “Daddy,” she manages to whimper. Though it might not seem like much, it speaks a thousand words.

Especially because Addie isn’t usually this emotional; she’s tough as a rock, never sheds a tear when she falls and always gets back up to run faster. It tears at his heartstrings to know that him leaving made her _this_ sad. He moves the book away to lift his daughter into his lap. Dropping a sweet kiss to the top of her head, Bellamy continues telling _‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’_ from memory, pulling Marlie and Clarke against his side now that there’s room for them there.

When Bellamy falls silent halfway through the story, his kids protest mildly until he reminds them that they need breakfast and promises that he’ll finish the story later. Holding both Addie and Marlon by the hand, Bellamy shuffles into the kitchen to cook scrambled eggs. 

Addie immediately asks to be lifted onto the counter, so that she can watch him, but her little brother is a bit more cautious. Patting the space next to her, the little girl smiles. “It’s okay, Marlie. You won’t fall, I promise. I’ll protect you.” 

_Well, that is the most adorable thing Bellamy has ever heard._

With his sister’s reassurance, Marlie gives in. Clarke immediately goes into _proud mom_ mode and snaps a picture of them with her phone. As soon as he is sitting on the counter next to her, Addie is true to her word, wrapping an arm securely around Marlon’s waist. 

“We have the cutest kids in the world,” Bellamy says, beaming at Clarke over his shoulder.

“No doubt.” 

However, both Addie and Marlie were _surprises_ to their parents — amazing surprises, but they still weren’t planned, conceived while Clarke was on (not very effective, apparently) birth control: It’s a common theory in their group of friends that Clarke got pregnant with Addie in the backroom of a sleazy nightclub that Murphy brought them to on his twenty-first birthday. As for Marlon, Bellamy’s pretty sure he came to be on the living room floor after he and Clarke emptied a bottle of red wine as an early kind of anniversary celebration. 

“Hot chocolate?” Marlie asks while they’re all seated at the table. Bellamy and Clarke comply, not just because it's December; it’s a _special_ occasion.

Ten minutes later, both of their kids have “grown” new chocolate mustaches, which is the single cutest sight in the world. Leaning in, Bellamy whispers to his wife, “Yeah. We did pretty well, don’t you think?”

She gives him a chaste kiss. “I’m proud of us.”

And Bellamy smiles, the corners of his dark eyes crinkling. “So am I.”

In fact, he has never felt more blessed in his life: that he could return home to a house full of so much love is nothing short of a _miracle._

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos make my heart swell <33 thank you so much for reading!


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